The Naming of Things
by Electric Light Shadow Boxer
Summary: The Tenth in the Unnamed series. With Blackpoole taken down Nate is free to build a new life for himself, but first, he has to completely shed his old one. Change is both wonderful and painful.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Naming of Things

AUTHOR: Electric Light Shadowboxer

RATING: PG13 for some bad language.

CATEGORY: Slash

PAIRING: Nate/Eliot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor am I associated with Leverage. No copyright infringement intended. This little piece of insanity was written for fun, not profit. I make no money. Literally.

SUMMARY: The Tenth in the Unnamed series. With Blackpoole taken down Nate is free to build a new life for himself, but first, he has to completely shed his old one. Change is both wonderful and painful.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Takes place after The Second David Job and bridges the gap to The Beantown Bailout Job. Contains spoilers. Note that this series follows the order of episodes on the season 1 DVD's instead of actual broadcast order.

Nate sat in the small plane, the cool leather of the seat making him shiver. The sun was hot against the windows, heating the plane like an aluminum can, but he still felt cold. Perhaps it was a sort of shock; a kind of disbelief that it was finally over.

He'd dismissed the pilot after watching the others leave. He wasn't in any hurry. He just needed to catch hold of the fraying ends of his life before he moved ahead. He felt a sense of relief climbing through his muscles. Blackpoole had been brought down and IYS was changing their policy. All thanks to a small ragtag team of thieves. Nate closed his eyes and felt the tension leave him, uncoiling from his belly and draining away down his spine. It left him shaky, trembling on the edge of exhileration.

He finally felt like he could breathe. Three years after his son's death, he could finally let Sam rest. Didn't mean that it didn't hurt. It hurt like hell. And hell was something that was always found in the shadows, but that was okay. It was a pain he could live with now. It was time for him to move on. He had only one regret. Eliot was gone, and he'd never be able to tell him all that had been bottled inside him. It was the knife's edge of pain that kept him from feeling truly and utterly relieved. The knowledge that he'd lost someone so close to him because of his arrogance and stubborn refusal to admit his feelings . . . He shook his head. It didn't matter. It was done. Eliot was gone. He needed to forget him and move on.

He rubbed his hand over his face and leaned forward, arms braced on his knees. The future was stretching out before him and he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. He couldn't go back to his life before Sam's death, and he had no desire to continue living the wreck his life had become. It was time to start something new. He sat up and tried to ignore the hollow ache that remained in his gut, focusing on his surroundings.

The plane was a small jet, but it was well stocked. Nathan turned the swivel seat and stared at the wet bar. It was even stocked with Jameson, his favorite. He stared at the alcohol for a long time. If this was a new start then he needed to give up the whiskey. He would never be able to rebuild his life if he was still chained to the bottle.

He stared at the green bottle, a tug in his gut letting him know that he may be ready to quit, but it wasn't going to be that easy. He licked his lips. He couldn't really start his new life if he was going through withdrawals now could he? And it wasn't like he had anyone there to nag him about it now. Besides, he didn't want to go through withdrawal alone. He'd just have one drink before he got going. Just one drink to chase away the hollow gnawing in the pit of his stomach and help him think a little clearer. He blew out a breath and stood, licking his lips as he approached the bar.

He wrapped his hand around the cool glass of the bottle, feeling the anxious flutter in the pit of his stomach release. This would make him feel better. The tension was already ratcheting down a notch. He uncapped the bottle and lifted it to his nose, taking a deep breath, scenting the hints of nut and oak that rode the top notes of the whiskey's scent.

He was pouring the whiskey into the glass when the hatch opened and someone managed to pull the stairway down. He straightened up and splashed the tawny liquid over his hand. Turning, he watched as Eliot climbed up into the plane, long chestnut hair framing his blue eyes, wind reddened cheeks, and full lips.

Eliot straightened up and pushed the hair out of his face. He stood in the hatch, breathing harder than normal. He let his eyes drift from the bottle in Nate's hand to his face, but didn't say anything. He'd done what he could, but the decision to quit ultimately had to be Nathan's.

Nathan blinked at him a moment, too surprised to really digest what had just happened. "Eliot? What are you doing here? I saw you leave."

Eliot moved farther into the plane and stood a few feet from where Nathan was stationed by the wet bar. He put his hands on his hips and cleared his throat. "You really think I'm going to leave you all alone after everything that's happened?" He shook his head and grinned a little. "I'm starting to think Parker's not the only one who's got something wrong with them."

Nathan licked his bottom lip and put the bottle down on the bar, leaving his full glass behind. He was damned happy to see him. The sight of him untwisted the painful lump that had been aching in the bottom of his chest. But something inside him wouldn't let it go that easy. "You don't have to stay, you know. This is your chance to leave without feeling bad."

Eliot rolled his eyes and stepped into Nathan, staring into his eyes. "How many times have I got to tell you, I ain't leaving." He reached forward, grabbing Nathan by the nape of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. He pulled back and searched Nathan's eyes. "Not unless you want me to."

Nathan couldn't help the lazy grin that spread over his face. He leaned forward and captured Eliot's lips with his own, working them with his tongue and teeth. When he pulled back he was breathing hard and Eliot's mouth was swollen from his attention. "No. I don't want you to leave."

Eliot let his hand slide down Nathan's back until it rested on his ass. He squeezed and put his forehead against Nathan's, eyes closed, mouth stretched in a grin. "We did it, you know? Blackpoole is ruined. He'll never hurt anyone else again."

Nathan took a deep breath and nodded his head, grinding his hips into Eliot's stomach. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss over Eliot's eyes before dropping once more to his lips, tongue darting into his mouth, stroking between Eliot's lips, brushing his teeth.

Eliot sucked on Nathan's tongue, enjoying the flavor of the man without the patina of whiskey covering it. He reached between them and cupped Nathan through his pants, feeling him straining against the fabric.

Nathan grunted into Eliot's mouth and ground harder into his hand. He pulled back, panting, continuing to thrust himself into Eliot's fingers. The feel of the seam in his slacks lent a painful edge against his hardening cock, but it was counterbalanced beautifully by the feel of Eliot's strong grip around his shaft.

Eliot chuckled, the vibrations going through his chest, into Nathan, making him shudder. He snaked his other arm around Nathan's back and tugged him closer, almost crushing. "As much as I would love to take you here, on the floor, I think that's going to have to wait." He gave Nathan another kiss before backing off. "You've been sitting here for far too long. We have no idea if Sterling's going to double cross us. We need to get out of here."

"Cock tease." Nathan grimaced and reached down to try and position himself so the pants weren't quite so agonizing against his sensitive flesh.

Eliot grinned and moved back toward the door, picking up his bag. "So, what are our plans now? What do you want to do? You can't stay in LA right now."

Nathan licked his lips and stared at the man before him. He couldn't believe he was still there, still willing to be in this relationship with him. He didn't want to mess this up. It had come to mean too much to him. "I was thinking maybe Boston." He cleared his throat. "We could go to Boston. Take some time for ourselves."

Eliot's eyes narrowed, but not in anger. He nodded and threw his bag down on one of the seats before pushing the hair out of his face. "That's where you're from, right? Boston? You got family still there?"

Nathan shook his head and glanced at the bar again, licking his bottom lip. "I just . . . It's not that I can't stay here. I don't want to. I need a change of scenery. Boston seems as good a place as any." He studied Eliot. "Unless there's someplace you want to go instead?"

"Boston sounds fine."

Nathan nodded and glanced at the bar again. "Okay. Uh, let's not take this plane."

Eliot watched as Nathan eyed the bar and felt his own eyes open wider, stepping forward and putting a hand on Nate's shoulders, studying him. They'd done this for him, so he could quit drinking. It wasn't a guaranteed success though, and even considering it was a huge step for Nathan. "You thinking about stopping with the booze?"

Nathan licked his bottom lip again and nodded his head. "I'm ready to move on." He stared at Eliot. "I need to let it go and focus on other things, Eliot. More important things."

Eliot couldn't smile. It was easy to say it. It was another thing entirely to actually quit. He nodded though, determined to be supportive. Kicking an addiction was tough, and support could make a hell of a difference. "Is there a place in Boston you're thinking about? Have they got a good rehab facility?"

Nathan backed up and shook his head, grabbing his bag from the floor of the plane. "I'm not going to rehab, Eliot. I can do this on my own."

Eliot felt his stomach knot. Sure, he could do it on his own. Like that worked for alcoholics everywhere. He looked away and shook his head. "Nathan, it's going to be hard. You know that. Besides, it can be dangerous. You've been drinking heavily for a long time. You need to be under a doctor's supervision."

"I don't need to be under a doctor's supervision, Eliot. I have you. It'll be fine." Nathan stopped and turned toward his lover, trying to find a way to express what he felt. "You know, it was a job, but it wasn't. I don't want to go to rehab again. I don't want to be by myself while I go through this."

"Nate . . ." What the hell was he supposed to say. "I just want this done right. This is too important. At a hospital or rehab center they'll have resources that I just can't match."

Nathan stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Eliot's stiff body. Eliot was upset. He understood. He did. He just didn't think he could go through another bout like he had at Second Act, not without Eliot by his side. "Please, Eliot, let me do this my way."

Eliot shook his head, but didn't say anything. Nothing he could say would change Nathan's mind. He was a stubborn son of a bitch. The best he could do was be there for him and call for help if it got too bad. He pulled out of Nathan's arms and grabbed his own bag. "Fine. You want to be pig headed about this go ahead. But, I'll tell you one thing, Bubba. If this gets out of hand I'll do what I think is best. You got it?"

* * *

Once they arrived in Boston they caught a cab to their hotel. Nathan dropped off to sleep with his head resting on Eliot's shoulder. Once they'd gotten on a flight Nathan had just fallen into sleep. He'd slept the whole flight from LAX to Logan, breathing softly. He'd woken long enough to get into the cab before falling asleep again. It was like all the tension, everything he'd been carrying around with him had left, leaving him exhausted.

Eliot listened to Nate's quiet breathing, reassuring himself that the other man was all right despite the pallor of his skin. He needed his sleep while he could get it. Eliot knew that this was the calm before the storm. Once the withdrawal really kicked in Nathan was going to be in a world of hurt. He felt his stomach tighten with nerves.

They pulled up in front of their hotel and Eliot nudged Nathan. "Hey, Nate, we're here." He watched as Nathan sat up and blinked around blurrily. "Come on. We're at the hotel." Eliot climbed out of the cab and held the door for Nathan. The cabbie popped the trunk and Eliot went around, grabbing their bags. He paid the driver and walked over to where Nathan was blinking up at the hotel.

Nathan felt like his brain wasn't moving linearly. He squinted up at the motel's brick façade and ran a hand over his face, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Boy, you didn't spare any expense, did you? Why choose such a swanky place?"

Eliot shrugged and started walking to the door, only pausing long enough to make sure that Nathan was following him. He'd picked the hotel because it had suites and as much as he enjoyed Nathan's company, he knew that being stuck in a small hotel room with him would drive him nuts. Besides, when Nathan started going through withdrawal they might need the extra room. The hotel also had a doctor which was good to have on hand. When he'd made the reservation he'd had them take all the alcohol out of the room. Now, if he could just keep Nathan out of the hotel bar.

Eliot felt Nathan drop back and to right, ostensibly looking at a brochure for the hotel spa while he approached the desk to sign in.

Once he had their key cards he started down the hall toward the elevator, pausing long enough to make sure that Nathan was following. They had the elevator to themselves. Eliot watched Nathan's sleepy eyes blink in the mirrored walls. He reached out and put his arm around Nathan's waist. "You doing okay?"

Nathan glanced at him. "What? Yeah. Just tired. It's been a long day."

Eliot nodded and squeezed Nathan's midsection tighter. They took the elevator up to the thirteenth floor and found their room. Once inside Eliot looked around the room, sighing. It was a little more frou frou than he liked, but it was spacious. And it wasn't like it had a heart shaped bed. It was just fancier than he normally liked for his own comfort.

Eliot tossed his bag on one of the couches in the suite and flopped down on the other one. He watched as Nathan put his bag down beside his and moved his head from side to side, stretching his neck. He patted his hand on the cushion next to him and held out his arm as Nathan came and sat down next to him. Eliot pulled him in close, rubbing Nathan's shoulders as he felt a small tremor cascade through his muscles. He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes, asking for strength to endure what they had coming. "You hungry? Feel like going out? Or we could order in?"

Nathan tucked his hands under his arms, trying to hide the way they were beginning to tremble. He felt so damn tired. "You know, I'm not really hungry." He licked his lips and tried to burrow into Eliot's side a little tighter, trying to get the muscles around his shoulders and neck to loosen so the pins and needles in his arms would ease up.

Eliot turned toward Nate, pulling him against his chest. He wrapped his arms around Nathan's chest and laid his cheek on his hair. "Nate, will you please consider going to a rehab facility for me?"

Nathan tensed and tried to pull away, but the other man held on tighter and he finally gave up, sinking back into the warmth of Eliot's chest. "Eliot, I'm not going back to some rehab facility. I can do this."

Eliot sighed and ran a hand up and down Nate's chest, trying to ease the tension coming off of him. "I ain't going to lie to you, Nate. If I think this is getting out of control I'm taking you to a hospital. I didn't come through all this just to lose you to the fucking DT's."

Nathan grasped Eliot's hand, squeezing. He knew the other man well enough now to know that the gruff anger was a way of covering up the fear the other man was feeling. He stayed that way for a while, just resting with the sure knowledge that Eliot was here and there wasn't anywhere they had to be. There was no team to worry about, no one to keep up appearances for. It was very freeing. Nathan burrowed a little tighter into Eliot's chest, trying to still his muscles traitorous shaking.

Eliot ran his thumb over Nathan's knuckles, wishing he could steal away the fine tremors skating through his limbs. They were both quiet, content to just sit together. Eliot wanted to savor this time, this brief moment of respite before Nate really started into the throes of withdrawal. "How long since you've had a drink, Nate?"

Nathan glanced around the room for a clock. He cleared his throat and relaxed back into Eliot's grip. "About five hours."

Eliot nodded his head, laying a kiss against his lover's temple while closing his eyes. Only five hours and the symptoms of withdrawal were already dragging Nathan down. He swallowed. "You sure you don't want something to eat?"

Nate shifted and tilted his head up so he could look up into Eliot's face. "Shit, Eliot. I'm sorry. If you want to go out and get a bite to eat we can." He swallowed, hoping the rolling in his stomach wouldn't make him out to be a liar.

Eliot let his eyes roam over Nathan's face before he shook his head. It wasn't just Nathan's pallor, it was also his deep reluctance to leave the quiet little bubble they found themselves in. "I'll order up some room service in a bit."

Nathan nodded and fidgeted a little bit. He sat up, pulling away from Eliot's warmth reluctantly. "Why don't you go ahead? I'm going to take a shower and get ready for bed."

"You sure you don't want me to join you? I can always get something to eat later." Eliot tried to ease the tension in his own muscles, worry making them tight. Nathan was trying his best to cover it up, but the energy that was rolling off of him made Eliot's hair stand on end. It was just the agitation he was sensing, but seeing his usually cool and calm lover vibrating like a California tectonic plate was slightly disturbing.

Nathan tried to smile and shook his head. "No you go ahead and eat." He grimaced a little. "I'd just as soon be in the shower while you deal with the food." He leaned forward and kissed Eliot, trying to wipe the worried look off his lover's face. "I'll be fine." He tried to waggle his eyebrows. "After you're finished eating why don't you come join me in bed."

Eliot sighed and nodded. "Yell if you need anything." He watched as Nathan got up off the couch and walked through the door to the bedroom. He ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. This was going to be painful, for both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: The Naming of Things 2/4

AUTHOR: Electric Light Shadowboxer

RATING: PG13 for some bad language.

CATEGORY: Slash

PAIRING: Nate/Eliot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor am I associated with Leverage. No copyright infringement intended. This little piece of insanity was written for fun, not profit. I make no money. Literally.

SUMMARY: The Tenth in the Unnamed series. With Blackpoole taken down Nate is free to build a new life for himself, but first, he has to completely shed his old one. Change is both wonderful and painful.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Takes place after The Second David Job and bridges the gap to The Beantown Bailout Job. Contains spoilers. Note that this series follows the order of episodes on the season 1 DVD's instead of actual broadcast order.

AUTHOR'S NOTE2: I lied. This part of the series is going to be in four pieces, not three. Also, because I'm a spaz, I feel I should include a general warning. No one should try to undergo alcohol detox without a doctor's supervision. There, public message finished.

Eliot lay beside Nathan on the king size bed, watching as he shifted uneasily in his sleep. He'd been waiting for room service when he realized he hadn't heard the shower start up. Concerned, he'd started to the bathroom to check on Nathan when he'd discovered him in bed, still fully dressed. He'd woken briefly as Eliot pulled off his shoes, but had quickly fallen back to sleep.

Eliot had cancelled his room service order and undressed, climbing into bed with him. Eliot wanted to reach out and hold onto him, but he wasn't resting well and the sweat had started to matt his hair to his head. He felt it was best to leave him alone and let him sleep while he could.

A low groan escaped Nathan's lips and Eliot brought his attention back to Nathan. His eyes were moving rapidly under his lids and another sound of distress escaped. Eliot frowned and double checked the time. He wasn't cycling through sleep properly. It took about an hour and a half to complete the sleep cycle and have an episode of dreaming. It'd been a little less than an hour.

Nathan started to become more agitated, tears leaking from beneath his closed eyelids. Eliot scooted forward and put his hand on Nathan's chest. "Nate, come on, man. Wake up. It's just a dream. Come on. That's it. Open your eyes for me, Nate."

Nathan blinked up in the dark, a sob caught in his throat. When he realized it was Eliot leaning over him he grabbed onto his bare shoulders and pulled himself into Eliot's chest, wrapping his scent around him. He tried to pull the comforting scent of Eliot's skin through his lungs and into his bones.

Eliot put his arms around the other man and leaned back, bringing Nathan in against his chest. "It's okay. I've got you, Nate. I've got you." He placed a kiss on the top of Nathan's head, hand rubbing along his spine, still unhappy with how thin Nathan was. He had been looking better, but he still looked wrecked. And now the withdrawal was making him appear strung out and on edge.

He held him like that for a long time, whispering nonsensical things into his hair that offered no meaning except comfort. When Nathan finally calmed down, and his breathing eased, Eliot squeezed him tighter. "Must've been a bad dream. Was it about Sam?"

When Nathan remained quiet Eliot shifted so he could glance down at his face, checking to see if he'd fallen back asleep. "Nate? You with me, man?"

Nathan took a deep breath and clutched to Eliot tighter. The dream had followed him up out of sleep and it was still coloring his perceptions, tinting everything with a surrealistic quality. When he was sure he could speak without his voice betraying his fear, he cleared his throat. "It didn't make any sense. It was just a weird, crazy, mixed up dream."

Eliot winced at the dry croak of Nathan's voice and nodded against the top of his head. "That's the withdrawal." He was quiet a moment. "What was it that scared you so bad?"

Nathan sighed and Eliot felt his muscles relax a little but he didn't let go. The trembling in Nathan's limbs made him seem vulnerable, fragile. It brought out every protective instinct Eliot owned.

"It was mixed up. I was in a plane and then I was somewhere lying on the ground and an animal of some sort was standing over me, its belly right against my face. I couldn't breathe." He stopped and clutched a little tighter. "And I was all alone. Everyone had left and I was alone and I couldn't breathe . . ." He stopped as another sob broke free. He clenched his hands tighter, eyes screwed shut; embarrassed by his lack of control.

Eliot pulled him closer, rocking a little as he dropped kisses on Nathan's hair. "It's okay, Nate. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, darlin'."

* * *

Eliot brushed Nathan's sweat soaked hair away from his face and rubbed his back as Nathan eased himself back down from his most recent bout of vomiting. It had now been ten hours since Nate's last drink. The shaking had started after only a few hours. Since then they'd progressed to sweats, vomiting, headaches, irritability, and anxiety. Eliot reached over and flipped on the light to get a better look at Nathan.

Nathan buried his head in the pillow. "Damn it, Eliot, warn me before you do that!"

Eliot swiped at a piece of hair that had escaped from his ponytail and sighed. "Nate, turn over here. Let me get a look at you."

"Nng."

Eliot pressed his lips into a thin line and took a hold of Nathan's shoulders, turning him over. He looked at Nathan's eyes as he blinked up at Eliot owlishly. "Wow, your eyes hardly have any blue showing. How are you feeling?"

Nathan tried to turn back over and bury his head once more, but Eliot's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He needed a fucking a drink. He glared up at Eliot and tried to lick his lips. "I'm fine. Stop hovering, Eliot. You're driving me crazy."

Eliot rolled his eyes as he brought up a glass of water, steadying the glass so Nathan's shaking wouldn't spill it onto the bed. The sheets were damp enough from Nathan's sweats that they didn't need to add to the moisture. "Here, you need to drink some water. I don't want you to have to get an IV if we can help it."

Nathan took a couple sips from the glass before pulling away and grimacing. Eliot helped him get settled back on the pillow and he closed his eyes, fighting his stomach's attempt to expel the water.

Eliot took a cloth and wiped at Nathan's sweating brow, trying to keep some of the sweat away and keep his lover comfortable. He frowned as he watched Nathan's hand come up and rub at his right eyelid. "What's wrong?"

Nathan tried to fight back the rapidly growing feeling of hopelessness. "Nothing. My eyelid is twitching." He turned his head away, shoving at Eliot's hands as they tried to dry his brow.

"You're really shaking, Nate. Are you sure you don't need me to call the hotel doctor?" Eliot placed his hand on Nathan's shoulder and squeezed gently.

Nathan shook his head and bit his lip at the nausea cascading through his belly. He swallowed and closed his eyes. "I need a fucking drink, Eliot."

Eliot sighed and ran his hand through his own hair before dropping it back down onto Nathan's chest. "No, Nate, you don't. You're doing so well. I know you feel lousy, but this is what needs to happen. It will go away, I promise."

Nathan groaned and turned to his side, curling in on himself. The tension inside him was incredible. He _needed_ a drink. It was more than he could bear. He felt an unsettling rumbling in his stomach and uncurled himself, sitting up, pushing Eliot away. "Bathroom!"

Eliot grabbed the trashcan and held it up. "Here, I've got it. Don't try to go to the restroom."

Nathan shook his head and managed to crawl out of the sweat soaked sheets. "No. I don't have to throw up!"

Eliot watched as Nathan stumbled into the suite's bathroom. He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to unknot the muscles there. He just had to keep reminding himself that this was harder on Nathan than it was on him.

* * *

"Eliot!"

Eliot finished toweling off and hurriedly wrapped the towel around his hips as he trotted back out into the bedroom. He'd been sponging off, afraid to leave Nate's side even long enough to take a proper shower. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

Nathan was standing by the bed, still shaking, pale, and squinting as if his head was about split open. "Something's wrong!"

Eliot gathered Nathan in his arms, hand automatically going to his carotid to check his pulse. It was beating strong, but fast. Eliot brought his hand up to rub through Nathan's hair as he sat them on the bed, cradling Nathan against his body. "What's wrong, Nate?"

"I don't know. I can't . . . I don't know. Something's wrong."

Eliot hugged Nathan tighter, arms trying to still the shaking in his sweaty body. "Shh, it's okay, darlin'. Tell me what's wrong."

Nathan clutched at Eliot's arm around his chest, trying to calm his breathing. He needed this to end. He couldn't think clearly. "I don't know. I'm scared, I can't think. I'm just . . ." He reached up and rubbed at his eyelid.

Eliot frowned down at him, heart dropping just a little as he saw the open expression of fear on Nathan's pale, damp face. He started rocking back and forth a little, frowning as he watched Nathan rub at his eye. "Your eye still bothering you?"

Nathan pressed the heel of his hand into his eye socket, jiggling it back and forth to try to dispel the feeling, twitching at the crawling sensations on other places on his body. "My eyelid won't stop jumping. My heart is beating so hard, like it's going to jump out of my chest." He tried to control his breathing, tried to relax back into Eliot's arms and his still damp chest. When a sob broke free he tried to pull away, rubbing at the skin of his abdomen.

Eliot held on tighter and buried his face in Nathan's hair. "Nate, it's okay. You're having a panic attack. Just calm down and try to breathe with me, okay? You've got to calm your breathing or you'll hyperventilate."

He hated this! He fucking hated seeing Nathan in pain and so fucking scared. And there was absolutely nothing, short of giving him alcohol, that he could do to ease his lover's suffering. "Shh, come on, Nate. Take some deep breaths for me. Come on, you can do it." He narrowed his eyes as he noticed Nathan rubbing his skin until it was red. "Are you itching, feeling like you've got bugs crawling on you?"

Nathan shook his head, curling his fingers into his palm, trying to resist rubbing at the sensation in his skin. He tried to take a deep breath through the tight grip that had seized his chest. He tried to concentrate on the soap and faint musk smell of Eliot's bare skin under his cheek.

"Are you sure? You need to tell me, Nate." His voice came out in a low growl, his own anxiety making him irritable. Eliot watched as the other man's eyes flicked over the room, failing to settle on any one thing. He cupped Nathan's face as he nodded his head, thumb stroking his stubbled cheek. Perhaps he needed something to take his mind off of things. Eliot dropped a kiss on Nathan's head, nuzzling in behind his ear a moment, and searching for a distraction.

He'd tried to show Nathan his feelings over and over, but this was the first time he was going to say them aloud. It probably wasn't the best timing, but he was desperate for a way to get Nathan's mind off of what was happening. He just hoped that Nate was in a place he could accept it. He thought about what he was about to say, his own heart beating a nervous staccato. "You know what I love about you, Nate?" He held him closer, waiting for rejection.

Nathan grasped tighter onto Eliot's arm and closed his eyes, listening to Eliot's heart beat, trying to get his own to slow from its frenzied, trip hammer dash, to match his lover's slow, rhythmic heartbeat. He was a little nervous, even baffled about what was going to come out of Eliot's mouth. Eliot did touchy feely almost as well as he did. For Eliot to actually speak about this . . . it was going to change things between them.

Eliot licked his bottom lip as he watched Nathan's eyes close, a look of determination settling over his face. But it wasn't a rejection. He felt some of the weight on his shoulders lift a little. "I've known a lot of people, Nate. There are so many people out there, just trying to survive. They're so busy with their lives, so wrapped up in what will get them ahead; they don't see the other person." He stopped and ran a hand through Nathan's hair, paying particular attention to a scar just under his hairline. "But you, you're different. You see people, Nathan. You are so deep in your own pain and yet you see others, you see their pain. And you don't ignore it, Nate. You bust your ass to help them. Always have. You're a good man, Nate. There aren't many of those left."

Nathan felt a dry chuff scrape past his peeling lips, leaving his chest hollow and aching. "As long as you don't call me Charlie Brown." He licked his bottom lip, still fighting the overwhelming feeling of anxiety and fear that tried to claw its way out of his gut. "So that's why you love me, huh? Because I'm a good man?"

Eliot felt his lips twitch in response. Nathan's nervousness was tinting the edge of his voice, painting it a nice soft yellow. His frail attempt at humor was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. It was a way for Nathan to cover his own insecurities. It was a way for Eliot to gauge just how much what he'd said meant to his lover. "Well, that, and your tight ass."

Nathan laughed and squeezed Eliot's arm around him tighter. It would be a very nice place to be if he could just get to feeling better. "I don't feel good, Eliot." He stopped, hope and fear clenching fiercely in his chest. "I need a drink. Just one drink, Eliot. Just enough to take the edge off."

Eliot clasped at Nathan, worrying over how fast his heart seemed to be beating. "No, Nate. I'm not getting you any alcohol. You're almost fourteen hours into this. That's fourteen hours you'll never have to spend like this again. Just take some deep breaths." He continued to murmur into Nathan's hair, rubbing circles along his chest and abdomen.

* * *

Eliot put the lid back on the plastic bowl full of soup he'd had delivered for Nathan and shoved it into their small refrigerator. He was worried about Nathan's inability to keep anything down, as well as the way sleep seemed to elude him. Even water was making him throw up, and if he wasn't able to keep Nathan hydrated he'd have to call the hotel doc to hook him up to an IV. Eliot frowned and grabbed up his own plate with his bleu cheese burger and Cajun fries. He'd ended up having to leave his first responder's bag and stash of medicine when they'd had to vacate the apartment. He really needed to get a hold of some new supplies. He didn't like feeling unprepared.

Sitting on the couch and keeping an ear out for Nathan, he allowed himself a moment to sink back into the cushions and relax. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. With Nate unable to sleep he hadn't been able to get decent rest either. He just wanted to take a moment to settle down and breathe the clean air. This was the first time he'd allowed himself to spend any extended amount of time away from the bedroom.

The smell of sweat soaked sheets and stale vomit seemed to adhere to the walls. It had gotten so bad it felt like the odor of illness coated Eliot's nostrils and slid down his throat. He'd changed the sheets and sponged Nathan down, too afraid to let him shower because of how unsteady he was, but it didn't seem to make any difference. It was as if the air itself had soaked up the chaos of Nathan's withdrawal, turning the room into a dark and barbed environment. Uninhabitable.

He bit into his burger, taking a moment to actually try and enjoy his food. It wasn't easy. His gut had been churning right along with Nathan's. Hope and pride warred with his feelings of anxiety and fear, the mixture of such extreme emotions making his stomach feel raw, bloody.

There was a thump from the bedroom and Eliot's jaw clenched down on the food in his mouth.

"I said no! Now leave me the hell alone! Just fuck off, you filthy son of a bitch!"

Eliot managed to swallow the fry in his mouth, coughing slightly as the strangling sensation of it trying to go down his windpipe caught up to him. He dropped the container with his food in it and jumped up from the sofa. When he got to the bedroom he saw Nathan standing at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around his head, eyes screwed tightly shut. "Nate!"

He came around the large king size bed and grabbed Nathan's biceps, trying to force his arms down so he could get a good look at him. "Nate! Hey, Nathan, look at me." He shook him a little, trying to gain his lover's attention. "Nathan! It's Eliot. Fuck, man. Snap out of it."

Nathan dropped his arms and glared into the corner of the room, shouting, his arms jerking free of Eliot's grasp as he started forward. "How dare you say that to me. You have no right!"

Eliot swallowed down the burger that was trying to come back up on him and stepped in front of Nathan, grabbing a hold of him tighter this time, trying to catch his gaze. "Hey, I need you to look at me. Nathan, come on, darlin', please look at me."

Nathan tried shoving at the person holding him back, determined to shut the other man up. When the fingers around his arms clamped down painfully, he pulled his attention to the person in front of him, blinking in confusion.

Eliot tried to smile as Nathan finally focused on his face, sweat beading on his upper lip. "You with me? Nate, you recognize who the hell I am, right?"

Nathan grimaced and brought his hand to his face, rubbing at the feeling of crawling along his cheek and neck. He swallowed and tried to get his mind to focus. "Eliot?"

Eliot felt the painful constricting in his chest ease as Nathan finally focused on him. "There you go. What's going on, Nate? Who are you talking to?"

Nathan glanced back over at the corner and licked his bottom lip before looking back at Eliot. He felt his gut turn to water and the fear turn his mouth to sand. "Fuck."

Eliot grabbed on tighter as he felt Nathan's shaking increase. "Come on, let's sit down here." He tried to lead Nathan back over to the bed, but the other man wouldn't budge. Eliot stepped back, scowling. "Nate, I need you to sit down a minute."

Nathan pulled out of his arms and paced to the other side of the room, rubbing at his forehead. "I don't want to sit down, Eliot. I need to move, to do something. I can't stand this . . . this sitting around here. I need to be doing something."

Eliot glanced at his watch and grunted. It was only about twenty three hours since Nathan's last drink. He crossed his arms, reminding himself that the mood swings were part of the withdrawal and that he couldn't take it personally. He watched as Nate continued to pace, rubbing at his skin. "Do you know what day it is?"

Nate turned and glared at Eliot, irritation tightening the band squeezing his head and making it hard to think. "Yeah, it's Saturday, we're in Boston. I know who you are and who I am. I'm not crazy."

Eliot shook his head and sighed. "No. You're in withdrawal. Nate, I'm just trying to make sure . . ." His eyes widened and he started forward as he saw Nathan growl and make a move for the nightstand. "Nate, No!"

Nathan whirled and yanked the phone out of the wall, throwing it before Eliot could get to him. "I said shut the hell up! You lousy son of a mongrel whore!"

Eliot pulled up short, ducking as the phone flew just to his left, toward the corner Nathan had been yelling at earlier. He blinked at the broken pieces of plastic and electronics littering the carpet, and the decent sized hole in the sheetrock before turning back to Nathan. "That's it." He came forward and grabbed Nathan by his arms, forcing him to sit down. "Don't try to get up, Nathan. You might be bigger than me, but we both know I can keep your ass on that bed if you give me reason."

He walked away, pacing back and forth, still breathing hard, adrenalin and fear still coursing through his veins. "Fuck!" Eliot rubbed at his own head with his left hand as he dug his cell phone out of his pocket.

Nate was watching the corner, but looked at Eliot when he saw him pulling his cell phone out. He jumped up and tried to grab it. "Who are you calling, Eliot? I'm not going to rehab. I don't need rehab."

Eliot jerked the phone out of reach and put his hand on Nathan's chest. "Sit down, Nathan. Do you understand what's happening here? You're hallucinating! That could be a symptom of the DT's! That's fucking serious, Nate! People die!"

Nathan shook his head, grabbing onto Eliot's arm. Tears pooled in his eyes, turning the blue of his irises into sun-dappled water. His teeth clenched as fear spilled into his stomach, sour and acidic. "Please, Eliot. Don't. Don't make me do that again. I'm fine. Please, don't leave."

Eliot bit his lip, trying to keep the sneer off his face. Fucking Sophie! If she hadn't pushed Nate into rehab before he was ready he wouldn't be terrified of it! His attention was pulled back to Nathan as a sob broke free and he started trembling harder. Eliot pulled him into his arms and sat down on the bed. "Okay, Nate. It's all right." He put his forehead against the top of Nathan's head and tried to think.

It was time to bring somebody in on this and he needed someone who would bend the rules. "Okay, Nathan. I'm not going to send you to rehab. I promise. I'm going to call a buddy of mine. But no rehab."

A few phone calls later he'd managed to get in touch with James, a friend of his from his days in the service. Lucky for them, he was also a doctor. Another call to the concierge and things were under way. He put the phone back in his pocket and looked down at Nathan fidgeting on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Nathan shrugged, ire gone for the moment. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Eliot shook his head and squatted in front of Nathan, putting a hand on his knee for balance. He took Nathan's wrist in his hand, glaring and squeezing hard when Nathan tried to jerk it away. He watched the time on his watch as he counted Nathan's pulse. He sighed and let go before running his hand through his hair. "It's fast, but not to the point that we need to be concerned. How are you feeling?"

Nathan looked away and started brushing at the skin on his arm. "I'm fine. I just . . . I don't feel well. He licked his lips and turned his attention back to Eliot. "He's not real, right?"

Eliot took hold of Nathan's hand and stopped him from rubbing his arm raw. "No, Nathan. He's not real." He stood up and pushed Nathan back onto the bed, scooting him over so that he could sit next to him, hip brushing his side. "Whoever you're seeing is not there. It's just you and me."

Nathan licked at his bottom lip, eyes narrowing. "It's my father. But that doesn't make any sense, right? My father is dead, right?"

Eliot bit the inside of his bottom lip, thinking about his answer. Truthfully he didn't know. They hadn't talked much about each other's pasts. It was safer that way. "Yeah, Nate, he's dead."

He placed his hand on Nathan's chest, rubbing small circles, trying to ease the tension vibrating through his muscles. "I have a friend who's living in Hartford. It'll take him a couple hours to get here but he's good and I trust him. He's calling in some prescriptions for you to a local pharmacy and I've arranged with the concierge to have them delivered here to the hotel. Once we get some medication into you you'll feel better."

Nate looked up at him, the suspicion showing clearly in his eyes. "What are you going to give me?"

Eliot stilled his hand, and then started the motion up again; reminding himself that he couldn't take Nate's suspicion personally. "I'm going to start an IV and we're going to get a mild sedative and something to help with the hallucinations. You trust me, right? I ain't going to give you anything that'll hurt you. You know that."

Nathan looked back at him a moment before finally closing his eyes and rubbing at his forehead. He swallowed and bit his lip, shoulder coming up a in a jerk, like he was trying to pull away from something. "Hurry."


	3. Chapter 3

James Rhimer pulled the stethoscope from his ears and undid the blood pressure cuff, watching as the man on the bed in front of him jerked at the sound of the Velcro letting loose. He flicked his eyes to Eliot standing at the head of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, before glancing back at his patient. "Mr. Ford, have you ever had problems with your blood pressure?"

Nathan licked his bottom lip, feeling the dry, flaking, skin under his tongue before shaking his head. He hated this! Everything felt off. It wasn't just the physical symptoms, which had lessened with the medication, but a feeling like the world had shifted fifteen degrees to the left. He looked to Eliot for reassurance and relaxed a little as his lover nodded at him.

Rhimer eyed him critically and started palpitating his patient's stomach, eyebrows rising as Nathan flinched, a soft moan escaping his lips. "That hurt?" He watched Nathan nod his head and stopped probing his stomach. "Have the hallucinations stopped or are you still hearing and seeing things?"

Nathan started to bring his right hand up to his face but stopped, a growl of annoyance escaping him as it pulled at the IV line in his hand. He dropped his hand back to the bed and shook his head. "I haven't. Not in a while."

Rhimer nodded his head and finished packing away his stuff. "How about your skin? Still feel like you've got bugs crawling under there?"

Nathan licked his lips and shook his head again. "I'm thirsty."

Eliot grabbed the plastic glass with water in it and helped Nathan sit up so he could take a sip of the cool liquid.

Dr. Rhimer watched them a moment before nodding. "Okay, I think we've got you on a good combination of drugs now." He looked up at Eliot, eyes serious. "Can I talk to you out in the sitting room?"

Eliot looked like he wanted to protest, but finally nodded, hand coming to rest on the top of Nathan's head for a moment. "Just rest for a while, Nate. I'm going to go talk to James while I heat up your soup."

Nathan grimaced at the thought of food, wondering if he could even make his throat work enough to swallow anything thicker than water at the moment. Letting out a huff of annoyance, his eyes flashed as he pushed himself farther up in the bed. "You don't have to leave the room to talk. I'm an adult, damn it! You don't have to make me feel like I'm twelve."

Eliot stopped just inside the door, turning back a moment to watch Nathan fidget in the bed. "No one's treating you like you're twelve, Nate. We're just trying to do the best thing for you right now. I'll be back in a minute with your soup."

"I'm not hungry!"

Eliot ignored him, knowing that he was feeling better if he was complaining. It was good to see him getting some of his spark back. If what he'd read about withdrawal was true though, it probably wouldn't last. Nate was likely to have mood swings for months. He closed the door behind him, taking a moment to tuck his hair behind his ear. He watched as the older man stopped in front of a piece of uninspired hotel art, eyes trailing over the muted tones of red and yellow.

James Rhimer was a large man, bordering on six five and barrel-chested. His short military haircut was graying in a dignified salt and pepper pattern, but the lines on his face were soft, hiding his age. In the service, he'd had a reputation for being a hard ass, but fair. He was generally outspoken, not caring whose feathers he ruffled. It was the only reason he hadn't made it past the rank of Major. He didn't do politics.

Now he appeared as if the years had been afraid to touch him. Thirteen years Eliot had been out of the service and the man looked the same. Eliot wouldn't be surprised if the man himself had stared down father time and dared him to take a step closer.

Eliot let the silence draw out between them for a good ten minutes before finally giving in. It was just the old army mule's way to make him speak when he'd been the one to request a talk. "James? How is he?"

James turned from the painting, eyeing the man before him. "He should be in a hospital, Spencer." He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his buzz cut, a holdover from his days in the service. He narrowed his eyes and put his hands behind his back, assessing the man in front of him.

Eliot Spencer looked like the world had been less kind to him than most. It wasn't that he'd aged so much as it was the tension coiled in his body and the wary lines of his face. He wasn't really all that different from when he'd first seen him. His hair was longer and he may have smiled a little easier, but you could see the anger that still ate at him. Whatever it was that had set the man in front of him down this path was still burning bright inside him. Here was hoping that it didn't consume him completely one day.

James gave the young man in front of him his best steely eyes. "What kind of trouble are you in, Spencer?"

Eliot shook his head, grin quirking his lips at the other man's automatic assumption. "I'm not in trouble, Sir."

"Don't give me that bullshit. You think I don't know you better than that? Come on, it's been what, thirteen years since I last saw you? You wouldn't be calling me if this was something you could let the civilians handle." He stopped and walked closer to the younger man, eyes searching for the lie. "How long have you guys been together? Does he do the same kind of stuff you do?"

Eliot rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed at being called on the carpet. He should've known he wouldn't be able to get anything by James. He sat down on the sofa and looked up at his old friend. "He's a good man, James. He's just had a tough time lately. But he's getting it under control."

James looked down at the younger man, gratified to see that he could still intimidate the troubled man before him. He wasn't completely oblivious to what it was that his young friend did. He'd hoped he'd get over whatever had been eating him up inside and finally settle down, start a family. He could see now that it'd been a fool's hope. "You never answered my question. How much trouble are you in?"

Eliot shook his head. "It's not like that. Not really. I tried to convince him to go to a program, but he's stubborn, and he's had a bad experience with rehab. How is he doing, James? Is this something you can handle?"

James sighed and walked over to the small bar area, looking around for something to drink before giving up and coming back to sit on the arm of the couch. He turned to face the other man. "It's not delirium tremens. His blood pressure isn't high enough for that and he's not really confused. It's alcohol hallucinosis, at least for now. That's the good news."

Eliot frowned and sat forward, brows pulling low over his eyes. "What's the bad news?"

"There are a couple complications we need to be on the lookout for. First, there is a chance the hallucinations won't go away. It's rare, but it does happen sometimes. Second, this could simply be a precursor to the DT's. His stomach is pretty messed up as well. I'm thinking he's got gastritis. How long has it been since he's been able to keep anything down?"

Eliot paled, stomach knotting up, the news hitting him like a solid blow to the solar plexus. "Not go away? You mean Nate could be . . ." He trailed off and ran his hands through his hair, tugging gently at the tangles on the ends. "You mean he might lose touch with reality permanently?" He stood and paced to the window, arm clenched around his midsection at the phantom pain. He couldn't imagine his Nathan permanently damaged in that manner. Nathan, who was always planning, always full of mischief; his brilliant mind dimmed by the heavy pall of antipsychotic medication.

James brushed at a piece of lint on his black slacks, tapping his boat shoe against the side of the couch as he watched Eliot try to digest the news. "It's rare and he's responding well the Valproate. Right now, I'm more worried about his stomach than anything else."

Eliot remembered his promise to bring Nathan his soup and went to the fridge, pulling out Nathan's soup and popping it in the microwave. He had to force the fear that tried to paralyze him down. Falling apart never did anyone any good. "He's been having trouble eating for a long time. It's worse at times than others."

James nodded and approached the door, grabbing one of his bags and rooting through it. He came up with some pills and tossed them to Eliot. "Make sure he takes one of those before he eats." He stopped and looked around. "Where do you want me for the night?"

Eliot nodded across the sitting room, opposite from his and Nathan's room. "Take the second bedroom."

James looked him up and down a moment, eyes raking the young man before snorting and shaking his head. He grabbed up his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. "You're breaking a lot of girls' goddamn hearts. You know that?" He shook his head again. "I'm going to wash up and relax a little. You remember how to check a blood pressure?"

Eliot nodded and caught the cuff James threw at him.

"Check it again in a couple hours. Come get me if there are any problems."

* * *

Eliot pulled Nate tighter against his chest, trying to still his lover's desperate shaking. He used his other hand to brush back his sweaty curls. Closing his eyes he rubbed his chin against Nathan's shoulder, soothing himself as well as the other man.

Nate had managed to get a third of the bowl of soup down, but he'd lost it again a short time later. Eliot glanced up at where the new IV bag hung. They'd switched it out and added some nutrients to keep Nate from growing too weak. "Take some deep breaths for me, Nate."

Nathan squeezed his eyes tighter as the wave of panic crested before easing back down. It was the first bad one since Eliot had started him on the medication. He licked his lips and swallowed, breathing a little easier as the terror and surety that something was wrong faded. "Talk to me, Eliot. I need something else to think about other than my body trying to turn itself inside out. How do you know your buddy out there?"

Eliot's hand stuttered a little in its motion through Nathan's hair before he started back up. "James was a doctor in the service when I was stationed in Quy Nhon. He uh, helped me out."

Nathan opened his eyes at the feeling of tension cascading through Eliot's muscles and looked up at him. "What happened?"

Eliot looked down at Nate and tried to laugh it off. "Come on. You don't want to hear this stuff."

Nathan grabbed Eliot's hand, squeezing. "Please, Eliot. I hardly know anything about you. I want to know. I need to know. Tell me about Eliot Spencer."

Eliot looked down at Nate's face, lines of misery creasing his forehead. His eyes so blue they were like drowning pools. It wasn't a big thing, not something that might scare the other man off. At least he didn't think so. But it was still painful. He felt Nathan squeeze his hand and wondered just how the tables had gotten turned on him.

He sighed and settled down into the bed next to Nathan. He lay on his side and pushed his body so it was cradled next to Nathan's hips while looking down at his face. "I was in my fifth year in the armed services. As I said I was in Vietnam. We'd been through a lot and had just come into Vietnam on some intel of suspicious activity we thought might be tied to a cell. We were tired and things had been very hard on my unit for the last couple of months."

He trailed off and bit his lip. He smiled a little bit, but it wasn't happy. "A month earlier a new guy joined the unit. Victor was a real trouble maker and he hadn't been able to find a good solid place among us. We were a pretty tight knit group. The things we did, we had to be." He sighed, eyes trailing away from Nathan as the next part played out in his mind.

"We were in a small village, not far from the sea. It was late and most people were down for the night. I'd been having some trouble sleeping so I was sitting just outside, listening to the sound of the waves on the shore." He trailed off, swallowing thickly as the sound of waves broke across his mind. He shook himself gently, trying not to lose himself too far down in the memories.

Nathan squeezed his hand, torn between telling Eliot he didn't have to say anymore, and a burning curiosity about the man who had changed his life.

Eliot took a deep breath and shook his head a little again, firmly rooting himself in the present. "I heard a scream, a girl, she sounded terrified. Across the street there was a . . . a building . . . that the village used to store foodstuffs. I ran behind it and found Victor . . ." He trailed off, lip curling in disgust and body thrumming with anger. "He was raping a girl, a child. She couldn't have been more than twelve."

Nathan let his eyes slip closed, disgusted, but not really surprised about what he was hearing. He popped them back open when Eliot continued on, desperate to let Eliot know he wasn't alone.

"I just . . ." He laughed, a bitter and cruel sound that yanked on Nate's guts. "I lost it. I pounded on Victor until there wasn't much left. The scream, or maybe the sounds of the fight, I don't know, but it woke a couple of the other guys. They found me tearing Victor apart and tried to stop me." He looked down at Nathan, face closed off, eyes shuttered behind heavy lids. "Next thing I know I'm waking up in the hospital."

Silence fell between them, thin as a gossamer web, like the smallest exhalation would break it apart into a million brittle pieces.

Nathan stared up at his lover, seeing the faint lines around his eyes and mouth in a different light. He knew that Eliot was a hard man, a dangerous man. And he'd often wondered what had happened to make him that way. But he'd never really thought of the horrible stuff he must've seen and experienced in his exploits. It was one thing to think about something on an intellectual level, and something totally different to hear it in a loved one's voice. "What happened, Eliot?"

Eliot's eyes flicked down to the man next to him, awareness pooling back into his warm eyes. "They, uh, tried to stop me, but I turned on them, too far gone to realize what was happening or who they were. They were good, but I was better. Garret ended up shooting me to keep me from killing them."

He stared down at Nathan, pain clear in his eyes before he could pull the mask firmly back in place. "I spent some time there under James' care. We've kept in touch since then."

Nathan searched Eliot's face before licking his lips and clearing his throat. "How did you not end up in trouble over that? How did you avoid a court martial?"

Eliot looked away, a blush rising to his cheeks. "James helped a little. They, uh, thought I'd snapped under the pressure of combat. They thought I was crazy."

"Damn right I helped. If it hadn't been for me your butt would've been in a camo green sling, Spencer. You'd have never gotten out the hospital. You'd still be sitting in a wetbrain ward waiting for the disability check to come every month."

Eliot turned and glared at James, voice dropping to a growl. "I wasn't crazy, James."

James just quirked his brow as he stared down at the younger man. "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to." He turned and settled his eyes on Nathan. "I wanted to check up on lover boy here. How are you feeling?"

Nate's brows drew low over his eyes and he opened his mouth, but Eliot put a hand on his chest and spoke first. "He had a bit of a panic attack a while ago. I was about to give him another dose of valium."

Nathan raised his eyebrows as he stared at Eliot. He'd fully expected Eliot to rip the doctor a new one for his assessment of Eliot and his blasé attitude, and was shocked to find him being almost deferent. It was a new and puzzling piece to add to the enigma that was Eliot Spencer.

James Rhimer nodded and sat down next to Nathan on the other side of the bed as he checked his patient's pulse. "Still a little fast." He glanced at the partially empty soup bowl. "I see you ate some. How well did it stay down?"

Nathan opened his mouth, but Eliot jumped in once again. "It didn't. I think we're going to have to try something a little easier on his stomach."

Rhimer's mouth quirked as he watched Nathan frown in annoyance. He leaned over a little and spoke directly to Nathan. "He always this bossy?"

Nathan watched as Eliot's eyebrows pulled low in a scowl and couldn't help the grin that lit up his face. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Eliot turned his attention to Nate, smacking him on the hip. "You better watch it, Bubba. I may take shit like that from him, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take it from you."

Nathan felt the grin spread wider and felt his heart give a small thump as Eliot's face softened and a small smile broke through the scowl.

James cleared his throat. "As much as I hate to break up this heartwarming moment, I think you're right. IV's are good but not eating isn't doing his stomach any good. He needs some soda crackers and some nondairy protein drinks if I can find them."

The doctor injected some more medication into the IV and then stood. "Is there anything else you want me to pick up while I'm gone?"

Eliot stood. "You don't have to do that, James. I can get it delivered."

James shook his head and packed up the medicine. "I need to stretch my legs, get some fresh air. Besides, I want to give you two lovebirds some more time together."

* * *

It's a combination of the smell of cigar smoke and his desperation to see something else besides the same four walls that finally pulls Nathan from the bedroom. He paused at the entrance to the sitting room, still a little weak, a little shaky.

It had been about three days, but he was finally starting to feel a little better. The sweating had slowed, and while he was still shaking a little, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. He'd managed to keep down his last two protein shakes and Eliot had been making noises about getting him to try some chicken broth.

He watched as Eliot laid down his cards, a big grin finally breaking out on his face. James muttered and threw his cards down, taking a cigar from between his lips and pointing it at Eliot. "You've got to be cheating. No way anybody wins five straight hands of Pai Gow Poker."

Eliot scooped up the cash on the table, adding it to the nice little pile by his left elbow. He glanced up and back to the table before looking up again. "Hey!" He stood and made his way over to Nathan, sliding an arm around his waist. "You feel good enough to be up walking around?"

Nathan shrugged and let Eliot lead him over to a chair at the table, sighing in relief when he was able to sit back down. It irked him to no end that he couldn't even walk across the room without being too weak to move. "No, I'm fine. I just couldn't stand looking at the four same walls anymore."

Eliot nodded and started toward the kitchen. "You've been asleep for the last couple of hours. Think you can manage to keep some broth down, maybe some crackers?"

Nathan rubbed at his chin with his hand, wincing at the stubble he felt there. "I don't know about the crackers, but the broth sounds okay." He watched as James approached with the IV stand as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Here, you need to keep the bag elevated." Dr. Rhimer set up the IV stand and hooked the bag to the pole. He pulled out his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff, taking in the man's pallor and still trembling hands. "How are you feeling? Do you still feel anxious? Having any auditory or visual hallucinations?"

Nathan shook his head and watched as Eliot pulled some things from the small refrigerator and set about the task of fixing him something to eat. "I feel much better. Just a little weak."

James checked Nathan's blood pressure and measured his pulse. He nodded and folded his equipment. "Much better. Bear with me here a minute. "What's your name?"

Nathan sighed but answered. "Nathan Ford."

"Good, good. Now what day is it?"

Nathan looked at him somewhat incredulously and shook his head. "Uh, Sunday, I think."

Dr. Rhimer nodded his head and smiled. "And where are we?"

"Boston."

James nodded and pressed on Nathan's fingernail, watching as it turned pink again. "Everything's looking good." He took Nathan's hand with the IV in the back and started peeling the tape. "You seem to be rehydrated and you're oriented which is good. Looks like you lucked out and we didn't get a full case of the DT's." He stopped and looked up at Nathan. "I'm going to stop the Valporate and the valium. You may feel a little anxious, but you need to let me know if it gets too bad or you start hearing or seeing things again. You listening?"

Nathan nodded and curled his fingers into his palms, anxious to be rid of the needle stuck through the back of his hand. He flicked his eyes toward the kitchen and watched as Eliot came back toward him with a bowl and some crackers. He licked his bottom lip and tried to smile. He felt okay. Not great, but well enough that he could relax. It was something he hadn't felt in a very long time.


	4. Chapter 4

Eliot and Nate walked down the street, shoulders bumping, and eventually Nate snaked his arm around Eliot's neck. They were enjoying the cool evening air and having a night out on the town. It'd been a week since Nathan had completed his detox and it was the first evening that he'd felt strong enough to get out.

So much had changed since Nate had left Boston. It'd grown and he wasn't anywhere near his old neighborhood, of which he was glad, but it still had the same air. It was nice to be back.

They were walking to a restaurant down on the corner that the concierge had recommended, and it was nice to relax and just be themselves. They entered the restaurant and their hostess smiled at them as she handed them over to be seated. The place must have been popular as it was packed. They were led through a sea of tables and a mass of bodies to a small table next to the bar.

Nathan paused and licked his bottom lip, eyes a little wide. Eliot glanced at the bar and felt something in his stomach coil. He turned to the waitress and smiled apologetically, turning his charm on for all he was worth. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but do you have a table away from the bar area?"

The hostess frowned and looked around. "I'm sorry, we're really in the weeds tonight. I'll have to check, but I'm not sure I'll be able to get you another table."

Eliot opened his mouth to reply, but Nathan held up his hand. "Eliot, it's okay. I can't avoid it the rest of my life." He shrugged. "It'll be fine." He took the seat with his back to the bar and smiled at the waitress.

Eliot bit the side of his cheek, wanting to refuse, but Nathan was already sitting down, looking at the menu. If he made a big deal out of this it might do more harm than good. Finally he smiled at the hostess. "This will be fine. Thanks."

The hostess looked from one man to the other. "If you're sure?" She waited until she got affirmative nods from both and then backed off.

Eliot watched as Nathan studied the menu. Under the table he could feel Nate's knee jiggling. He put a hand on his knee to stop it. "Nate, we don't have to do this, okay? You don't have anything to prove."

Nathan looked up from the menu and laughed. "It's fine, Eliot. It's not a problem. Let's just enjoy our evening."

Eliot felt something in his stomach curl tighter at Nathan's forced laugh. It was too bright, too loud. Nathan had a horrible fake laugh. It was a dead giveaway every time. He rubbed Nathan's knee a little and opened his own menu. "Okay, Nate. Okay."

After dinner Nathan was quiet, withdrawn. They walked down to the shore and along the street. Eliot squeezed Nathan's hand in his, thumb rubbing circles over the back. "I'm really proud of you tonight. I know it wasn't easy sitting in there."

Nathan shook his head and pulled Eliot to a stop. "You don't have to treat me like spun glass, Eliot. I'm not going to fall apart at the sight of a drink." He shrugged and licked his lips. "It was fine. I had a good time."

* * *

Nate lay in the bed, muscles still languid and aching with exertion. He watched as Eliot pulled his boxers on and walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Nathan let his head fall back as he tried to figure out what the hell he'd done wrong now. They'd been having a pleasant afternoon, a nice little post coital chat and then next thing he knew Eliot was getting all bent out of shape. This just served to further his opinion that sleep should always follow sex. That way no one could get mad about anything that was said.

Nathan sighed and slid out of bed, pulling on a pair of boxers and sweat pants. He came out of the bedroom and watched as Eliot stood looking out the window. He hadn't bothered to put anything on but his boxers, and the mid afternoon sun streaming through the windows highlighted his well defined muscles and his suntanned skin. Nathan swallowed, allowing himself just a moment to study his lover. He was beautiful. He could scarcely believe that he was his. He felt a disquieted rumbling in his stomach as he watched Eliot ball his fists. Whatever he'd done to piss Eliot off he needed to fix it.

He came up behind him, arms snaking around Eliot's midsection as he buried his nose into his hair. "I'm sorry, Eliot. Okay? I'm sorry. Can we not dwell on this?" Whatever this was.

Eliot stiffened in his arms before relaxing and placing his arms over Nathan's. "You need to do this, Nate. An addict doesn't do well unless they have some sort of support system set up." He turned in his lover's arms and pushed him back so he could look into Nathan's eyes. "You're clean, Nate. But it's going to take work to stay that way."

Nathan stiffened in Eliot's arms and tried to pull away, but Eliot held him tight. So that was what this was about. He should've known. He stopped fighting and winced as Eliot's hands gripped a little too tightly on his arms. "Look, Eliot, I don't need to go to AA. I'm fine. Why can't we just move past this?"

Eliot looked at Nathan's eyes, feeling his eyebrows rise in incredulous disbelief. "Why don't you want to go to AA, Nate? You've had a serious problem. Withdrawing from it liked to have killed you! I just want to make sure you don't have to go through that again."

Nathan sighed and closed his eyes. "I don't want to be part of some 'cult', Eliot. That's what places like AA are. Besides, sitting around and listening to how rotten other peoples' lives have been doesn't really seem like it'll be much help. I'm fine, you're fine, don't worry about it."

Eliot let Nathan go and sighed, shaking his head as he watched Nathan pull away and head for the refrigerator to dig out a bottle of water.

* * *

Eliot looked up at the building and then back at the piece of paper in his hand. He felt his eyebrows raise as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He sighed and shook his head. He should've known. Without him there to balance things Nathan would go back to his old patterns.

Eliot hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and then went in the door and up the stairs. He found the apartment indicated on the piece of paper in his hand and stopped in front of it. He'd been really looking forward to coming home, spending some time with Nate. But if things had gone back the way they'd been before Nate's withdrawal, he might've just wished that he'd stayed in Pakistan.

It'd been a couple of months since Nate had sobered up and the inactivity was driving Eliot crazy. He was fixed for life, never had to work again, but he just wasn't built for that kind of life. He'd been nervous about leaving Nate alone such a short time after his detox, but he was literally starting to climb the walls.

They had still been staying in the hotel and Nate seemed to be searching for a new direction, unsure of what he was going to do with himself. He hadn't even been able to settle enough to agree to getting a place to live. He'd just grunted and shook off the suggestion. So when Eliot had gotten the offer of a job in Pakistan he'd not been able to turn it down. Even Nathan had thought he should go.

He looked back at the note in his hand before shoving it in the pocket of his jeans and knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Eliot opened the door and stepped into the apartment. It was nice, a lot like his old apartment in LA. There were lots of windows, wooden floors, and a nice open floor plan. He sat his bag on the couch, torn between looking at Nathan as he sat with his feet up on the desk and a phone to his ear, and the nicely stocked kitchen. Eliot felt his heart shudder a bit and warmth pool into his groin. Nathan obviously picked this place with him in mind.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you then. Okay." Nathan hung up the phone spreading his arms wide as he stepped off the little raised area where his desk was sitting. "Welcome home!" He came forward until he was standing in Eliot's personal space. "What do you think?"

Eliot narrowed his eyes, taking in Nathan's appearance. He looked good. Really good. Even though Nathan had started regaining his health before he'd left, it'd been such a new thing that Eliot had forgotten how different he looked.

Here stood Nathan, hair combed into submission, a healthy, rosy glow on his cheeks, eyes bright and alert, and no tell tale smell of alcohol. He couldn't forget the sight from downstairs though. "It's above a bar."

Nathan stepped back, grin never leaving his face. "What?"

Eliot sighed and tried to hide his disappointment. "You're an alcoholic living above a bar, Nate. Come on, you can see that's not healthy. It's . . . it's, I can't even think what it is right now."

Laughing, Nathan backed off turned around, allowing Eliot to get a good look at him. "I'm not drinking, Eliot. I told you, I'm done with that. I'm working on getting my life back together. Tell you what, it's hard not to live around a bar in this neighborhood."

Eliot shook his head and sighed. This was an argument that he wasn't going to win. Besides, it really was a nice place. "Looks like you've got everything under control."

Nathan stepped back into his personal space and leaned down, capturing his lips with his own, hungrily nibbling on Eliot's tongue as it was thrust into his mouth. He brought his hands up and captured Eliot's face.

Eliot had been in Pakistan for months and they'd had to get by on phone calls. Being in the other man's presence again was like a balm on his skin. He'd been so tightly wound that he thought he wouldn't make it until his lover came back.

Nathan finally pulled away, grinning and licking his lips, thumbs moving across Eliot's cheekbones. "You better get a shower. We've got reservations for later."

Eliot was still smiling as he squeezed Nathan's ass. God, it was good to be home. "I vote we stay here and try out the new bedroom."

Nathan laughed and started up the stairs. "Later. Believe me, we've got time for that later. Right now we need a shower and if you hurry I might give you a taste of coming attractions."

Eliot ran his hands through his hair. "I'll be up in a minute. Go ahead and start without me. I've got to make a quick phone call."

He waited until he heard the shower start up and then approached Nathan's desk. He pulled out some of the drawers and rooted around in the papers, but he didn't find any hidden bottles and nothing to give any indication what Nathan had been up to while Eliot had been in Pakistan. He lifted the blotter a little and found a piece of paper stuck underneath. Checking to make sure that Nathan wasn't watching him from the stairs, he opened it up and frowned down at the list. When he finally recognized it for what it was he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Nathan may not be drinking, but it was a close thing. In his hand he held a list of local bars and liquor stores.

Eliot bit on his bottom lip and crumpled the paper in his fist. He was sure that Nathan wasn't drinking. He looked too good and he knew that Nathan wasn't the type to be able to have just one drink. If he was drinking again it would show. The question was, what did he do now? Confront Nathan or keep a discreet watch on him?

* * *

Breath still heaving, Eliot rolled off of Nathan and stared at the ceiling. They were both sweating and gasping for air. The last of their cries seemed to echo against the walls of the room. It had been so long since he'd been with his lover and he'd been so ready. He had no idea how he'd managed to make himself last as long as he had.

"Can I take this off now?"

Eliot looked to the side and chuckled as Nathan was pulling at the black fabric covering his eyes. Eliot pushed himself up and leaned in to untie the blindfold. He dropped a kiss on Nathan's lips as he pulled the silk away. "There."

Nathan blinked up at him and tackled Eliot pushing him down on the bed as he ate hungrily at his mouth before dropping to his neck and collarbone. "That was amazing. We need to use the blindfold more often."

Eliot ran his hands up Nathan's back, letting the silk trace against his wet skin. "It's a nice tool, but I like looking in your eyes, seeing you as I bring you across that threshold, watching you as you call my name and clench down around me."

Nathan licked his lips and bent down to kiss Eliot again, this time more serious, trying to convey everything he wanted to say. He finally pulled back and sat down facing Eliot. "I've wanted to talk to you about something."

Eliot frowned, concerned at the serious tone Nathan had adopted. He pushed himself up against the headboard and pushed the hair off his forehead. "What is it?"

Nathan bit his lip and looked away, nerves making his stomach roll. He'd had a lot of time to think while Eliot was out of the country and he'd come to realize that now was the time to address the issue. "You know, when we first started seeing each other I was a mess." He laughed a little. "I mean, I still am a little, but I'm working on it. I'm in a lot better place than I was. And there are certain things that I need now, that I can do, that I couldn't before."

Eliot felt his brows draw down low over his eyes, confusion chasing away the relaxed fatigue of his muscles. "What are you talking about?"

Nathan looked at the wall above Eliot's head and shook his head. "Christ, I'm bad at this." He took a deep breath. He was almost certain that Eliot wouldn't mind what he was about to say. Almost. He licked his lips again. "Remember our first time? When I didn't know what you wanted from me? And you said that we didn't have to put a name to it?"

Eliot felt his heart flutter a little. He remembered very well. It was the act that had started him down this journey. "Yeah, I remember."

Nate shook his head and made himself look Eliot in the face, hand resting tentatively on Eliot's thigh. "I just realized, you know, it was silly to keep denying it." He waited for some sort of comprehension from his lover, but Eliot remained silent, a look of confusion on his face. Oh God, what if he'd been wrong and this wasn't what Eliot wanted after all?

He cleared his throat and decided to push forward. He needed to know. Bottling things up had brought him to a disastrous ruin before. He wasn't going to let this fester. "Eliot, I'm trying to say that I'm ready to start naming things. Our . . . relationship . . . what we have here. It's important to me. I love you and I just needed to say that. I'm sorry I haven't before."

Eliot felt the smile break across his face before he could stop it. He knew it, in his heart. But it was nice to hear the other man to say it, to acknowledge it. Eliot grabbed Nathan's hand and squeezed. He could sense that Nathan was a little uncomfortable and needed to break the tension. "Is this where you propose?"

Nate glared at him and threw a pillow in his face. "Great. I'm baring my heart over here and you're joking." He was laughing though, glad for the distraction from his feelings.

Eliot kept the smirk on his face as he watched Nathan relax a little. Alcoholism was about the feelings. Nathan was so used to covering his up and medicating them away that it was going to be tough to deal with them openly. He was proud of him and more than a little in love himself.

He pulled Nathan in against him and let his chin rest on top of the older man's head. "Just so you know, I love you too."

Nathan nodded and laid a kiss on Eliot's chest before pushing himself back up. "What are you planning to do now?"

Eliot shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'll spend some time here with you for a while and then see about working another job."

Nathan settled back on the headboard next to Eliot and bit the inside of his lip. "Have you ever thought about going straight? I mean, you're a hell of a retrieval specialist. You wouldn't have to work as a hitter. Your skills would be extremely handy in the insurance business."

Eliot couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up out of him. "Come on, Nate. I can't take a job like that. I'd be bored out of my head. 'Sides, I wouldn't be comfortable in that field."

Nathan rolled his head against the headboard and looked at the other man. "I thought you liked helping people?"

Eliot blinked at him. "I do, but, Nate, I'm not sure that type of helping is really up my alley. Why are we talking about this? I've got stuff to do. Question is what are you going to do?"

Nathan picked at the comforter on the bed and nodded his head. "I've gotten a job at Boston Assurance. I go in tomorrow to meet with the president of the company and get settled."

Eliot sat forward and turned so he could look Nathan in the face. "You've got to be kidding me, Nate! You can't go back to doing that! You don't have it in you."

Nathan laughed and shook his head. "What? Of course I have it in me. I've got my life back now, Eliot. I'm ready to get back into the game, help people."

"Help people." Eliot looked away, shaking his head. "You did help people, Nate. But going back to big business this way? It's not going to satisfy you the way you think it will."

Nathan glared at him. "Oh, and what will, Eliot? Conning people? I'm not a thief."

Eliot looked at him, disbelief and anger clouding his face. "Is that what I am to you? A thief?"

Nathan shook his head and tried to backtrack. "What? No, Eliot. That's not what I meant. I just meant that, you know, what we did, it served a purpose. But now it's time to move on."

Eliot shook his head and climbed out of the bed to go clean himself up. "Whatever, man. I can tell you one thing though. What you're looking for? That ain't it."

* * *

Eliot stood in the shadows across the street as he watched Nathan enter the Boston Assurance building. He didn't know why he'd followed him, exactly. Except that he realized that Nathan was still in denial. Not about the drinking thing, but about who he was. He thought he could just pick up and be the person he was before his life fell apart. But that kind of thing was highly unlikely. No one could go through the things Nate Ford had and not come out a changed man.

Besides, the list of bars and liquor stores he'd found yesterday had him on edge. It was like an emergency plan in case he needed the booze. He could practically hear Nathan now '_It doesn't mean anything. Look, I'm not going to drink. It's just in case._' Yeah, not happening. So here he was, watching to see if Nathan was really going to go through with this. He'd eat his boots if he did.

About twenty minutes after he'd gone in, Nathan came back out of the office building, loosening his tie and looking around.

Eliot felt a surge of self-satisfaction. He'd been right. Nate hadn't even lasted as long as he thought he would. Eliot smirked and turned around to head home. He had to get back before Nathan did. He was about a block away when he heard the explosion. "God damn it!" He turned around and ran back toward where he'd left Nathan. Yeah, it could've been somewhere else, but he knew that his lover attracted trouble like flies to horses.

He arrived just in time to see Nathan bending over a prone man, a young girl standing next to him. In the street, a car was on fire. He started to run up, but stopped as he heard sirens approach. Nathan didn't look hurt and help was here. He didn't want Nathan to know he'd been watching him. Somehow, he thought the other man wouldn't appreciate it.

Once home, Eliot flopped down on the couch and did something he rarely ever did. He flipped on Nate's TV and found a local news channel. He sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table, keeping one ear tuned for the sound of Nathan coming home.

He sat through the weather and the noon cooking segment until the reporter came on with breaking news. He sat back, grinning. He really didn't trust technology at the best of times. Still, he had to admit that it sometimes came in useful. Someone had caught what happened on their cell phone.

He watched as Nathan started across the road, tie loose and a determined look on his face. And hell, Eliot knew where he was headed. He'd scoped that place out good while he'd been waiting for Nathan and there was no doubt in his mind what sat on that corner of the street.

Eliot bit his lip as he realized that he was going to have to get Nathan involved in something sooner than he'd realized or Nate would be getting back on the bottle before Eliot knew what'd hit him.

His eyes turned back to the screen as the squeal of tires sounded from the speakers and he sat forward, heart clenching in his chest as he watched Nate, frozen in the middle of the road, as the car flew over him. When the scene cut away and the news anchor came back on the screen Eliot muted it and sat with his face in his hands.

When he'd arrived back on the scene all of that had already happened. He'd had no idea how close Nathan had come to buying it today. He took deep breaths to try and settle his stomach. It was like alcohol had a vendetta against Nate. He'd never seen someone so damned accident prone when it came to alcohol. Yeah, alcoholics weren't the most graceful, but this was fucking ridiculous. And terrifying. He didn't know if he'd ever get that picture out of his head.

He heard steps outside the door and turned the TV off, jumping off the couch. He was in the kitchen by the time Nate let himself into the apartment. What he wanted to do was rush over to Nathan and take him up in his arms, reassure himself that Nathan was really okay. What he did was remain calm and collected.

Eliot turned around and looked surprised. "Hey! You're back early. How did the job meeting go?"

Nathan shrugged and stopped at the island in the kitchen, watching as Eliot pulled out some chicken and onions. "Yeah, well, I, uh, decided to go in a different direction."

Eliot looked up from where he was peeling the onions, doing his damndest to look surprised. "Yeah? Wow, that's a shock."

Nathan narrowed his eyes at him before picking up an apple out of the bowl on the counter. "Yeah, you can say whatever you like. The company just wasn't right for me."

Eliot nodded, eyebrow arched. "Okay. So what are you going to do now?"

Nathan bit into the apple and shrugged. "I'll figure it out. It's not like we're hurting for money. I've got to time to decide."

Eliot pursed his lips, but didn't say anything. Yeah, he had time. Too much of it. He was about to open his mouth to say something when his phone beeped. He scowled and wiped his hands before digging it out of his pocket. He felt his eyebrows rise as he saw the email. "Hey, did you know that Sophie is in town?"

Nathan sat down at the table and picked up the paper. "No. What's she doing in Boston?"

Eliot came around the counter and sat down across from Nathan. "She's doing the Sound of Music." He grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was go see Sophie act. But then again, it was a musical. Maybe she could sing better than she could act. "She's invited me. I bet you got an email too."

Nathan shrugged and didn't look up from his paper. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

Eliot was silent for a moment. Maybe this was the perfect idea. Maybe this is what Nathan needed. If the team got back together then he would have something to concentrate on, a direction. It would be good for him. Otherwise he was going to lose his grip on sobriety. He could just see it. "I think we should go."

Nate looked at Eliot over the top of his paper, eyebrows raised. "Seriously? You hate Sophie's acting. Besides, I don't really want her to know we're living here. That means we'd have to go back to hiding our relationship and I don't want to do that."

Eliot sat back and shrugged. "It's just for one night." He smirked. "This would be a good time to tell her anyway. You guys have been apart and she can't be expecting anything from you at this point."

Nathan tapped his fingers on the table before he stood up and started rooting around in the cabinets to make some coffee. He really didn't want to tell her. Not because he was ashamed or because he hoped they could get something going. But because she was nosy, and bossy, and somehow he just knew she'd disapprove. "You know she'd probably expect to come back to my place for a cup of coffee or something." He looked around the apartment. "We'd have to hide all evidence that you live here. Where would you go? What would you do?"

Eliot snorted and took over making the coffee for Nate. "It's not like I've really settled in yet. Aside from a bag and some clothes upstairs I don't really have anything here. I can just tell her I'm staying on your couch for a couple nights."

Nathan stepped back and rubbed at his chin. "Why is this so important to you? Don't tell me you've gotten attached to the team?"

Eliot growled and started the coffee maker. "I just thought it'd be nice to get out and do something different. See an old friend. If you don't want to go fine. I'll go by myself." Eliot started out of the kitchen, but Nate stepped into his path.

"Hey, Eliot. I'm sorry. I didn't realize this was so important to you. We'll go. We'll see the play and say hello. But we'll have to arrive separately."

Eliot nodded his head. "Fine." He pushed his hair out of his face before retrieving a hair band from his pocket and tying his hair back. "Look, I've found a gym a couple blocks over. I'm going to go get in a workout. I'll be back later." He reached up and laid a kiss on Nathan's lips. "Thank you, Nate."

Nathan kissed him back, smiling slightly. "You're welcome. Don't be too late, Eliot. I'd like a little time with you to myself before we see Sophie."

Eliot nodded and grabbed his gym bag. "I'll be back in about an hour and a half." He closed the door behind him and made his way toward the gym. Nathan was going to resist this like hell. But if he knew Sophie, and he did, she would invite the rest of the team as well. All he had to do was put the bug in their ear about a job here and let momentum take care of the rest.

*The End*

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, what a ride! Season 1 is complete. Next up, a small break and then on to season 2! Thanks to all who have read this series and commented so nicely. There will be more!


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